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Updated: May 24, 2025
Spenski had been partly kneeling, but as Samarc approached, his head bowed slowly down, and the smile was gone. "Come on they'll do it again!" Peter heard the words but did not know who spoke them possibly Boylan from behind, possibly he had said it. He had not seen Samarc's lips move. The voice was an offense in that silence.
It is the long night, but it is a great honor for us to be here and at work." "Where are your companions?" The Russian smiled. "They are all about through the dark of the long night. We may only signal in passing. In fact, I must go now " The surgeon in charge had entered. Peter went to Samarc's cot, steeling himself. "Samarc," he whispered, without bending, "Samarc " His sleeves were rolled.
He wished he could spare them, stop the continual sacrifice. Miles of gray lines moving out now. ...His companion's tugging hand. It dawned upon Peter before many sounds that Samarc wanted to go alone. He pointed the trail back around the hills toward Judenbach, where it would meet the road Kohlvihr had taken, suggesting that Peter join the staff.
He appeared just now to see the steward's blouse. "Samarc takes the field to-day. It's for him," Peter explained.... "He's going out to kill himself. Only one reservation that he kill no one else." Boylan seemed staring at Peter's knees. "You're letting the ketchup burn," Peter said mildly. "I suppose that's what he really means to do," Big Belt observed, after a moment.
His thoughts turned often to Samarc, always with a pang. He wished the Big Belt were here. This last reminded him of his saddle bags razors and all gone with the pony. Boylan would have the laugh at him now. He could not sit still in his quarters. Voices came to him from the street, from the court even from that grim place a little down the way.
This opened the earlier part of the day, and his strange wandering with Samarc among the hills the magic of the hospital steward's coat, the scent of the cedars, and Peter's persistent sense of Berthe's nearness. "Actually, I had to stop and think," he explained. "Each time I fell into an abstraction, it struck me that she was there. It seems yesterday, too " "I was just here," Berthe said.
...The officers would know if it were the same old crew, because they knew Samarc's work. This was the substance of the answer. "But why go?" ...They would take off the bandages to be sure that he required further hospital care. He could not endure that. The bandages must never come off.... He would rather be afield. Peter saw the grim finality of it. Samarc wasn't changed. He meant to end it.
Peter called. There were others about a whole line of fallen, but they saw just this one his cheek to the dirt, his mouth moving queerly. He was young like the undersurgeon, seventeen or eighteen, and much bewildered, the gray, clayey hue upon him, but not at all uncouth. Samarc felt his spine, turned him. The wound was in his body. Just now Redhead saw the effigy that was Samarc.
The Captain glanced at Samarc and turned to the American as they urged on. "Hurt badly?" "Just his face." "Stay by some of the soldiers might be rough " They were carried forward in the resistless interference of great numbers. Peter had pitied the infantry formerly from a hill, having stood with a battery as it sprayed the Austrian lines.
He reflected how her presence always changed him, gave him strength of a different sort, and directness of aim.... It was true that she seemed near on the other side from Samarc a part of the mountain fragrance that would not be overpowered in the gun-reek. He felt if he could turn quickly enough he would catch the gleam of her colors. This was her country.
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